#like we know. hes literally in the ring with you.
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theemporium · 2 days ago
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lukey getting his girlfriend a promise ring but most definitely forgets to tell his brothers so when she pulls up to the lake house with a ring on her ring finger they’re jumping to conclusions?
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
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“Did you know?” 
Quinn blinked, frowning at the way Jack pushed into his room and quickly shut the door behind him before spinning back around to glare at him. He was almost tempted to tease him over his odd behaviour before he noticed the genuine hurt and panic in his brother’s gaze.
“Know what?” Quinn asked. 
“That Luke is fucking engaged,” Jack hissed out, muscles in his jaw twitching at the pressure of his teeth gritting together. “Why the fuck did he not say anything? Why the fuck did you not say anything? I literally live with him, how the hell did he not tell me anything?” 
Quinn blinked. “What the hell are you talking about? Luke is not engaged.” 
“My mistake, the huge fucking ring on his girlfriend’s left ring finger gave me the wrong impression,” Jack snapped back, pissed off and upset and feeling a little overwhelmed at the thought of his younger brother—his baby brother—being engaged when he barely knows how to work a damn washing machine.
Quinn choked out a surprised noise. “The what?”
“The fucker got engaged and didn’t even tell us,” Jack hissed, beginning to pace around the room. “Oh god, Mom is gonna kill him. Mom is gonna kill us.”
Quinn frowned. “Why did he not tell us he was even thinking about proposing?” 
Jack huffed. “When the fuck did he even get engaged?” 
Quinn shot his brother a blank look. “They just came back from a weekend away. Take a fucking guess.” 
Jack’s nose scrunched up. “In Ohio. Who the fuck gets engaged in Ohio?”
Quinn let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he quickly stood up from his spot on the bed. “We need to talk to him.”
“What the fuck do we say?” Jack questioned, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. "Congratulations?"
“What else can we say?” Quinn retorted, shaking his head. “That we love and support him but what the fuck is he thinking getting engaged and not telling anybody?” 
Jack shrugged. “Sounds good to me.” 
Quinn rolled his eyes. “Jack, you can’t say shit like that.”
“Can’t say shit like what?” 
Both boys snapped their heads around to find Luke standing in the doorway, a stick of beef jerky in his hand that he was currently munching on as he looked between the two of them with an odd expression. 
“What? What did I miss?” Luke frowned. 
Despite the initial hurt and anger he felt minutes ago, Jack couldn’t stop himself from darting forward and dragging his little brother into a hug. “You’re a dick for not saying anything to us but I am happy for you, even if I think you’re a little young. We love and support you no matter what, bud.”
Luke’s arms awkwardly hung by his side before he slowly patted Jack’s back. “Thanks?” 
Quinn looked a little more pensive, a softer expression on his face. “You could have told us, you know? We would have helped you pick out a ring or whatever else you needed.” 
“Oh,” Luke’s eyes widened a little before he shrugged. “It was no biggie, Bratter knew a few good places around Jersey so I was able to get it before we left after playoffs. I didn’t think either of you would really care.” 
Jack quickly stepped back, the anger suddenly back and rearing. “Woah, hold the fuck up, Bratter knew you were getting engaged before me? Your brother? What the fuck?” 
“Engaged?” Luke repeated with a look of confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 
“You’re engaged!” Jack insisted, his eyes narrowed in a glare. “I saw the ring!”
Luke blinked before snorting. “It’s a promise ring, dumbass.”
Quinn sighed.
“Oh,” was all Jack managed to get out. 
“I mean, I love her but like,” Luke shrugged, suddenly looking young and sheepish. “That is a big step, you know? But I’m serious about her. I wanted her to know that too.” 
“Right,” Quinn sighed again, pressing his fingertips to his temples before smiling a little. “We are happy for you. Both of you. She’s good for you.”
Luke smiled a little.
Jack nodded. “And that is one hell of a promise ring, bud.”
Luke groaned, rolling his eyes as he already began to turn to leave the room.
But Jack continued. “I mean, not that it would hurt your bank account since I buy you everything—”
“That’s what big brothers are for!”
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starkeysprincess · 2 days ago
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Petals & Promises
rafe cameron x Kook fem!reader
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SUMMARY: Rafe Cameron doesn’t do romance—until after that wild night at the party, when he starts showing up at your door with flowers. No words, just a smirk and a bouquet. It’s probably just a joke... or is it?
wc: 3,4k (I got carried away 😛)
WARNINGS: some angst, mainly fluff, (idk what else to add lmk)
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Y/N was curled up on her couch, overwhelmed with the strenuous college work that she had to turn in till next week. It was quiet on Figure 8, The afternoon sunlight filtered through the window, casting a soft glow across the room. The stress inside of her was slowly building up while cautiously reading through her essay, making sure not to make one single mistake. She was a straight A student after all, and the only thing that mattered to her was having perfect grades. Meanwhile her friends were going out, partying, drinking, living their best lives, she was bed rotting and freaking out about her future, it was stupid really.
suddenly, she heard her phone ring and when she saw that it was her best friend Lila, she couldn't of have been happier. Immediately she picks up the phone:
L: "hey girlll, how are you?"
Y/N: "hey Lil, I'm finishing up my assignment, as always, ugh im literally about to pass out."
L: "okayyy perfect then, I have the perfect solution for you, you're coming to Rafe Camerons party today at 8. You seriously need to loosen up."
Y/N: "wait- what? Lil, you know I can-"
L: cya there!
*the phone Hangs up*
"Fuck...." you mumble to yourself and let out a sigh. But on the other hand, maybe listening to Lila and forgetting about school wouldn't be so bad at all? I mean, as long as you don't get wasted what could go wrong? Time passes and you get up to fancy yourself up. It feels so stupid to you, but on the other side you've never been to a party before and a feeling of excitement rushes through you. Therefore you do a full face of soft glam makeup, touching it up with a rosey pink color of gloss and curl your hair. The last touch was the outfit, for which you had decided to go with a pretty dark blue evening gown and a pair of louboutin heels. If you were being honest, this was the prettiest you've felt in a long time. It felt relieving to feel comfortable and beautiful in your own body again. You leave your house and start walking to Tannyhill. Once you get to your destination, you see a large crowd of people in front of the Cameron household. You step into the house, and boom—music shaking the walls, bodies everywhere, air thick with booze and something fruity. Before you can even process, Lila spots you.
“GIRL, FINALLY!” she stumbles over, nearly spilling her drink. “I was ’boutta send a damn search party. By the way you look JAW DROPPING”
“Thank you but you texted me two minutes ago.”
“And that was two minutes of suffering,” she says dramatically, shoving a cup into your hand. “Now drink.”
You sniff it. “What the hell is this?”
“Who cares? It’s alcohol.”
You take a sip—mistake. “Bro, are you tryna poison me?”
she cackles. “Lightweight. C’mon, we need shots.”
Fast forward—you're both gone.
You’re clinging to each other, half-dancing, half-tripping, screaming the wrong lyrics to some song. Your head spins, but in a fun way.The room spins. The lights blur into streaks of neon, and the bass vibrates through your chest like it's syncing with your heartbeat. You don’t know how long it’s been—minutes? Hours? Your head is heavy, your legs unsteady, and suddenly, Lila is gone. Panic flickers through the haze of alcohol. You push through the crowd, bumping into sweaty bodies, murmuring half-apologies. Your vision tunnels, and the edges of the world start to fade. Shit. You need air. You need to sit. Stumbling toward the wall, you brace yourself, blinking hard to clear your vision. The party keeps moving around you—people laughing, dancing, making out in dark corners—but it all feels distant, like you're underwater. But even through your fucked up vision and fuzzy head, you see and feel someone eyeing you down.
And then you see him.
Rafe Cameron.
He’s across the room, leaning against the counter, drink in hand, watching you. Not just looking—watching. His sharp blue eyes flicker under the dim lights, unreadable, intense. Your pulse stutters. Whether it's from the alcohol or the way he tilts his head slightly, like he’s debating something, you’re not sure. All you know is that everything else—the noise, the people, the chaos—fades into the background.
It’s just you and him.
Your legs give out before you can take another step. The world tilts violently, and the last thing you feel is the cold floor meeting your body. Distantly, voices blur together, someone laughs, music pulses through your skull. Then—warm hands. Strong arms wrapping around you before you hit the ground completely. The scent of cologne, sharp and clean, cuts through the alcohol haze clouding your brain. “Shit.” A deep voice, close. Your head lolls against something firm—a chest? A shoulder? You can barely process it, everything slipping in and out of consciousness like a bad dream. “Yo, is she good?” someone asks. “She’s fine,” the voice responds, low and controlled. “I got her.”
Then you’re moving. Lifted effortlessly, arms hooked under your legs and back. The warmth is grounding, but your mind is too fogged to fight it, to even think about what’s happening. Cool air kisses your burning skin as you’re carried outside. The music muffles behind closed doors, replaced by the sound of steady footsteps, the distant hum of crickets.
You try to mumble something, but it comes out as a slurred mess.
“Relax,” the voice says. “You’re safe.”
Safe. The word wraps around you, pulling you further into the darkness.
The first thing you notice is the warmth. Not just from the hoodie wrapped around you, but from the air itself���quieter, softer than the freezing night outside. The second thing is the scent—clean linen, expensive cologne, a faint trace of cigarette smoke.
You’re not at the party anymore.
Your head is still spinning, but the pounding bass, the suffocating crowd, the overwhelming chaos—it’s all gone. Replaced by something calmer. Safer. Blinking hard, you push yourself up slightly, your body weak and heavy, and that’s when you see him.
Rafe Cameron.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, head tilted slightly like he’s been watching you this entire time. But not in the way people usually say he does. There’s no arrogance, no sharp amusement. Just something unreadable. Something almost… gentle. His blue eyes flicker over your face, scanning, assessing. “You good?” Your throat is dry, but you manage to croak, “Where—?”
“My place,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You were out of it. I wasn’t about to leave you there.” The weight of those words settles in your chest. You were vulnerable—completely out of it—and instead of taking advantage, instead of leaving you behind, he brought you here. Safe. Taken care of.
You were confused, and on the other hand you were partially panicking, why would Rafe Cameron take you to his house?
“I—” You don’t even know what to say. Your hands clutch at the hoodie around you, only now realizing it’s his. The sleeves practically swallow your arms, the fabric drowning you in warmth. “You were shaking,” Rafe says like he’s reading your mind. “Figured you could use it.” Your stomach flips. Why is he like this?
You’ve heard the stories—Rafe Cameron is reckless. Selfish. Dangerous. But the guy sitting in front of you? He’s none of those things. Maybe it's just an illusion, maybe he just wants to get between your legs and leave you. He shifts, reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand, then holds it out to you. But when you try to grab it, your fingers tremble too much. You're unsure of wether you should trust him or not.
Rafe notices.
Without a word, he lifts the glass to your lips himself, his free hand cupping the back of your neck, steadying you. His touch is warm, careful, almost hesitant—like he’s afraid of hurting you. The moment stretches, something thick and heavy settling between you. When you finish, he pulls back just slightly, his thumb barely grazing your skin before he lets go. The loss of contact makes something tighten in your chest.
“You feeling okay now?” His voice is quieter now, softer.
You nod weakly. “Yeah… thanks.”
His lips press together, like he’s debating something. Then, finally, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair.
“I don't want you to go there anymore.”
Your breath catches. “I—what?” Rafe lets out a small, breathy chuckle, almost like he can’t believe himself either. “You just… you don't belong at parties.” He glances away for a second, then back at you.
Your heart drops, unsure what he means and you swear you could feel your face heat up in embarrassment.
Your fingers tighten around the hoodie still wrapped around you, and you finally whisper, “Why?”
Rafe holds your gaze for a long moment, the air between you thick, heavy with something neither of you know how to name. Finally, he reaches out, fingers barely grazing your cheek, his touch featherlight. It sends a shiver down your spine.
“Because it’s you,” he murmurs. He stares you down with a neutral face expression. The embarrassment lingers, twisting in your chest.
Parties aren’t for you.
Rafe’s words replay in your mind, making you feel small. You tug his hoodie tighter around you, avoiding his gaze. He sighs, grabbing his keys. “C’mon. I’ll take you home.” The drive is quiet until he finally speaks. “You think I meant that in a bad way.” You hesitate. “Didn’t you?” His grip on the wheel tightens. “No. I meant… you don’t need that shit. The fake smiles, drunk assholes, guys looking at you like—” He stops, jaw clenching. “Like you’re something to mess with.”
Your heart stumbles.
“I just—” He sighs. “It’s not you.” The weight in your chest shifts. Not gone, but lighter. When he pulls up to your house, he reaches out, tugging the hood over your head gently. His fingers graze your jaw, slow, careful. “Get inside safe,” he murmurs. You nod. “Thanks… for everything.” As you step out, you don’t look back.
But if you did, you’d see him still watching. Still waiting.
Two days pass, but you can’t shake the way Rafe looked at you that night. The softness in his voice, the weight in his eyes. Like he saw you differently. Like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.
You tell yourself it was nothing. That it was just a moment. That Rafe Cameron doesn’t do things like that.
But then— The doorbell rings.
When you open it, he’s there.
Standing on your porch, dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans, looking almost nervous. And in his hands—a bouquet. Not just any bouquet, but the kind that looks like it came straight from some overpriced florist. Deep red roses, white lilies, wrapped in a silk ribbon. Your breath catches.
“Uh…” You blink at him, words failing you. “Are you lost?” Rafe huffs a small, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “No.” He glances down at the flowers, then back up at you. “These are for you.”
You just stare. Because—what? After a beat, you slowly take them, fingers brushing his as you do. The petals are soft, the scent rich and overwhelming. “Rafe…”
“I know,” he cuts in, running a hand through his hair. “This is… not what you expected.” You nod, still too stunned to process. He exhales sharply, like he’s bracing himself. Then, finally—
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
Your heart stutters. Rafe looks away for a second, like this is harder for him than it should be. When he speaks again, his voice is lower, rougher.
“That night? Seeing you like that? It fucked me up.” His blue eyes meet yours, and there’s nothing cocky in them. Just honesty. Raw and unfiltered. “I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the way, I started caring. And it scared the shit out of me.”
You swallow hard, your grip tightening around the flowers.
He takes a small step closer, voice dropping even lower. “But you looked at me like I was good that night. Like I was worth something.” He scoffs under his breath, shaking his head. “And I wanted to be that. For you.”
Your chest tightens, your pulse pounding. Rafe runs a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. “Look, I don’t do this shit. I don’t—” He gestures vaguely, like this is beyond him. “But I can’t not do this with you.”
Another step. Closer.
“So let me take you out. A real date.” His gaze softens, voice barely above a whisper now. “Let me prove I can be good for you.”
The world narrows to just him. His eyes, his voice, the plea hidden beneath it all.
And suddenly, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.
Because this? This feels real.
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uracutieraka · 1 day ago
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literally cannot get over the idea of you and Denki Kaminari being 'go with the flow' types of people! like you're both super into each other but neither of you have put a label on it, so it just results in super shameless flirting that has the rest of your class rolling their eyes.
"Kami?" You sweet voice rings out from across the mostly empty common area of the dorm. The boys eyes quickly tearing from his friend over to you, face lighting up with a toothy grin.
"N/n!" He calls back, watching as you skip over to him. Your head nuzzles between his arm, effectively pulling his hand from his pocket as you do. His arm wraps around your shoulders and pulls you into his side.
"Ugh, you guys are so gross." Mineta says and you roll your eyes, sticking your tongue out at him.
"Whatever, you're just jealous." You say after, thus launching a full on back in forth verbal attack between you two.
"Woah, woah, there's enough of me for the both of you!" Denki chimes in, fake cockiness seeping off him.
You pull out of his grip and swat the back of the blond's head.
"Absolutely not!"
He pouts and rubs the spot you just hit. You giggle and shake your head at him.
"Whatever, I'm out of here!" Mineta grumbles and storms off.
You lean over to the boy, head resting on his shoulder as you look up at him to whisper.
"Stay in my dorm for the night?"
He looks down at you, brow raising in thought.
"Hmm, what's in it for me?"
You roll your eyes and lean back up and off of him, giving him a blank stare and crossing your arms.
"Kaminari."
He just watches you, small smile on his face. Obviously he was going to stay I your dorm, but he loved messing with you.
"Alright, alright, of course I'll stay."
You squeal and grab his wrist quickly, turning and bolting towards the stairs to go to your dorm.
"Uh-uh!," Iida steps in front of the two of you, stopping you both. "Boys and girls being alone in a dorm is strictly forbidden!"
You pout and look up at the class representative with big puppy dog eyes.
"Iidaaaaaa, pleaseeeeee? Who's going to know if you don't tell?"
Iida's face falters in defeat. He always tried to, but he could never win in an argument with you.
"Fine! But just this once." You jump up and wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a tight squeeze.
"Thank you!" You turn around and giggle when you grab the Blond's hand, shooting him a wink.
He watches as you two run off, shaking his head.
"Wow, class rep." Iida turns around to met with the judging glare of Sero and a few other boys.
"Wha-" He's quickly cut off by Kirishima.
"That's not very manly of you."
"Yeah! What the heck dude!" Mineta chimes in, but he's ignored.
Iida tries to speak but words fail him.
"They're not even boyfriend and girlfriend yet!" Sero whines.
"Are you guys talking about Denki and Y/n?" Mina now chirps from behind the group. Jirou, Tsu, and Momo behind her.
Sero nods, not breaking the hard glare he's giving the blue haired boy in front of him.
"I wish those two would just put a label on it already!" Momo says.
A few nods and hum of agreement follow.
"It's gross seeing Kaminari so..." Jirou starts but fails to find the words she needs to describe it.
"Whipped?" For once the group agrees with Mineta.
"Gossiping is very rude!" Iida finally says.
"You know what else is rude? Them shoving their gross love stuff down our throats, and you letting them get away with it!" Sero points an accusatory finger at Iida.
"I think we need to have an intervention with them." Midoriya now joins the conversation. Arms crossed over his chest as he has a serious look on his face.
"Midoriya! You really think that?" Iida is shocked at the unsuspecting input.
The green haired boy just nods up and down.
"Seriously, they're disgusting." Bakugo adds as he passes by towards the kitchen.
"I think they're cute!" Ochaco adds.
"Of course you do!" Mina whines, throwing herself back onto the chair behind her.
Ochaco pouts at the girls words and mumbles something under her breath.
"Okay, okay, tomorrow I'll call a meeting before dinner. I expect you all to be there."
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wraith-caller · 2 days ago
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two things i have a hard time grasping wrt fandom's perspective on the golden order are: 1)"its radagon's" and 2)"it's conservative/traditionalist". sometimes i encounter people who seem to think the erdtree and the golden order are significantly distinct from each other. that there was an age of the erdtree without the golden order, and that marika governed the erdtree era while radagon was the force behind the golden order. Marika herself says: "The Erdtree governs all. The choice is thine. Become one with the Order. Or divest thyself of it." Corhyn says: "The Erdtree, heart of the Golden Order, lies before our very eyes!" as well as this when given certain prayer books, "Its incantations bear no lineage from the Erdtree. My interests lie solely in the Golden Order." A spirit NPC says: "Ohh, Erdtree, great Erdtree. The Golden Order itself, unwavering, stretched to the sky." Protection of the Erdtree says: "In the beginning, everything was in opposition to the Erdtree. But through countless victories in war, it became the embodiment of Order."
They are inextricably intertwined, not separate from each other. There being an 'age of the erdtree' does not necessarily say that, after it ended, marika surrendered power to 'radagon's golden order.' These ages are a simple fact of the progression of time and the notable cultural shifts, not new ownership. The golden order is marika's work and vision, and she has been at its helm throughout its existence until the Shattering and her imprisonment. Even then, she is still nominatively in charge. you are vying to become her consort, not radagon's.
radagon is never shown to usurp marika in some way. if anything, he is her pawn (he literally becomes a tool of the golden order in our boss fight with the elden beast...). he wages war for her in liurnia. he returns to her when she calls, leaving behind all other obligations he has to his family. she calls him her 'leal dog' and notes he is beneath her - not a god, not until she makes it so. he does exactly as she demands in one of her echoes, researching and exploring the depths of the golden order in search of its fundamentals. he is not the cruel and callous leash of the greater will placed upon a helpless, rebellious woman. he is her. he is maybe the only one she can trust at a time when she is beginning to have some kind of reservations about the order she has built, or the power it serves. this ties into the frustrations about the golden order being some traditional, conservative society, which has never made sense to me. one i frequently see is that sex is looked down on or people are purposefully robbed of the desire to have it by marika. it's hard to imagine sex is some scorned taboo when the woman has had god knows how many kids with at least two husbands, rennala and radagon also had kids, and we know by godrick's existence that children are still born under the order for multiple generations. then we have melina outright tell us that births still happen. and sex is clearly still on people's minds: look at mohg's "sharing a bedchamber" with miquella, everything tanith and rykard had going on, fia and rogier, seluvis' pervy self, varre's flirtatious relationship with the PC. the idea that the order/marika has turned everyone sexless is not supported by anything in game(even the cut turtle neck item simply says the urge has 'waned', not disappeared, which could have way more to do with being alive for 1000 years straight than marika turning the horny switch to 'off'). it just feels like another attempt at turning the golden order into a generic christian oppressor, which is way more boring than what it actually is. same goes for the insistence that marika is just a helpless figurehead being controlled by radagon/the greater will and that this is a society where women are to be seen but not heard. marika waged multiple wars to found her order, and had her own vision for the elden ring itself, a world without death. we can even see why she'd design it this way with the background provided by the dlc. women warriors are commonplace in this world, not exceptions, and they achieve the same honors as men in war. the order itself places specifically women in positions of importance within their society/religion - the finger maidens have the important task of providing guidance and strength to tarnished. the finger reader crones interpret the holy words of the two fingers and by extension the greater will, and are found en masse just beside marika's own bedroom and the elden throne itself, not denigrated or seen as 'lesser' but heralded as respected figures. the same goes for caria, which appears to be just as matriarchal a society as the golden order's, never even mentioning kings or princes in their history.
tl;dr: the golden order is all marika's and she doesn't care if people fuck.
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tanoraqui · 3 days ago
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I love how DWJ looked at Aragorn’s long lineage and said, “well that’s stupid. by now, everyone in Arnor and probably Gondor too has royal blood.” and then said that Maewen, Moril, Ynen, Mitt and Kialan all look like Hern in different ways, and Maewen’s mother looks like Tanaqui and her father looks a little Navis, or at least acts like him, even though Navis isn’t on their family tree—though Clennan is, so either Moril, Dagner or Brid may be; and the Adon’s Ring fits almost any Earl in Dalemark and Mitt looks just like the Adon and…
On the podcast they were talking about how a king (or queen) is arguably the symbolic manifestation and thus protagonist of a country, and in Crown that’s literal and plot-critical in a strictly PR & politics way. Keril, Earl Hannart has clearly since Cart and Cwidder been looking at his son the “Adon” with his companion the bard-mage Tanamoril and his lady-love Manaliabrid and thinking, “If there HAS to be a King of all Dalemark…”, in competition with Noreth Onesdaughter whom all the North murmurs will walk the King’s Road when she turns 18—only for both to be interrupted by Mitt & co arriving on the Wind’s Road with Undying fore and aft and a face like the Adon reborn, and in every new town they come to, people say, “Oh, we’ve heard of you!”
(Which results in arguably my favorite quote of the whole series, with immense “Did you think you were dealing with amateurs?” energy from Navis.)
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I think I said this 10 years ago, but it’s so interesting how…successive “generations” of the Undying get more human? Is it because the power dilutes, or because they get more elemental as they get older? The One, of course, is eldest and greatest, and he’s the entire land and can barely talk to mortals directly. Old Ammet, Libby Beer, Tanamil and Annoreth (the River, Closti’s wife & the Spellcoats siblinngs’ mother) all seem to be of roughly the same nature—comfortable with human interaction, albeit along specific rules, but their natures intrinsically bound up with some element of nature. Ammet and Libby are greater, elemental than specific geographical features—but overall closer to each other than to Tanaqui and Duck, who each are defined in their own mythologies mostly by mortal-invented crafts, weaving and music respectively. (And, with the Ring, Cup, Sword and maybe even Crown, I seriously theorize that the original Manaliabrid was a smith.) And then youngest of all, Mitt, who doesn’t seem to have a defining mythical association—he’s still just a guy, whose main ability is to call on greater powers for help at just the right time and place.
Idk if all of that Means anything, but it’s definitely a pattern. I could tie it into that essay about the fantasy trope transition from the age of magic, gods & heroes to the “modern” industrial age, j suppose.
I also reiterate my theory that the Holand Sea Festival is a ritual offering to Old Ammet and Libby Beer to be unbound from their divine duties, with the dissolution of the fruit & straw idols, with the understanding that by offering the freedom, the mortals prove themselves worth of the Undying couple agreeing to return to their bindings based in the Holy Islands. If the Sea Festival ever doesn’t happen, Holand (and probably a lot more people) get “bad luck” because, as Spellcoats demonstrates, an Undying who is bound but doesn’t like it can and will still mess with you.
New theory: Tanaqui made the Dropwater/Dropwaithe River. Proof: It originates in the clearing of her house. She is her mother’s daughter. And I bet you could weave a river like a scarf, then lay it upon the land. Just to see if she could, possibly.
One of my favorite examples of the dubious accuracy of stories and historical records in these books is how in C&C, Osfameron gets fully credited with bringing the Adon back to life, just like he moved mountains—and we DO know the cwidder can do that!—and then in Crown we find out that he ran to his sister and she changed history by unpicking her weaving. I love it. Relatedly, my favorite Sibling Thing(TM) in these books is that thousands of years later, Tanaqui still calls her little brother “Duck.” As she should!
rereading the Dalemark Quartet because of this fantastic podcast series, and a few notes:
I really cannot imagine Duck as looking like anything but my own younger brother. I don’t imagine Tanaqui as looking like myself, despite the many years of having this username and relating intensely to DWJ’s first girl narrator & mythic history-weaver trope. I don’t have any problem imagining Gull, Robin or Hern as they’re described. But Duck, young or grown, looks like my little brother (who, for the record, is currently doing grad school chemistry, which is definitely a sort of magery).
I’d argue that Mitt and Navis have a parallel moment of first-meeting, future-of-the-country-deciding Mutual Vibes Check to Hern & Kars Adon. It’s just that Mitt is 3 years old at the time, so Navis is mostly going “why is there a toddler here. …Hildy-coded, though”, while Mitt has gotten all the way to “he’s a little strange but I can and will trust him with my Dream of a Better World.” (They are both correct.)
I’m having a LOT of thoughts about the fantasy trope of “there used to be magic & gods but now there’s less or none at all”, and all its variations, in comparison to Tolkien and modern works. But I’m having so many that it needs to be a separate post and maybe short essay.
The structure of the series is so interesting. It’s not chronological at all, which actually makes the gap—15 YEARS—between books 3 and 4 even more agonizing to imagine waiting through. Books 1-3 are all separate tributary rivers pouring into 4, and each one ends on more of, in effect, a cliffhanger: Cart and Cwidder with a fairly normal “this adventure is entirely resolved but there are likely more to come.” Drowned Ammet wraps up the story but is lacking some denouement, they never actually reach the North, it’s just safely in sight, it’s clear that they will reach its relative peace & safety—but we don’t see them do so, and we don’t know what happens to them when they do. And Spellcoats! Has a vision of how the plot will resolve, but very pointedly ends before showing it! All we have to know what happened to any of the characters is a historically uncertain postscript, and the knowledge that (more) modern Dalemark exists as it does! Much less any mention of anyone or anything—except technically the earl and earldom of Hannart—from either of the previous books. And she left the readers like this for fifteen years!
If I’d been a teen in the late 70s reading these books as they came out, when Crown of Dalemark was accounted in the mid-90s, I would’ve screamed aloud. I would love to know if anyone reading this post did have that experience.
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sieglinde-freud · 7 months ago
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do you think intelligent systems remembers that they gave eirika a character outside of her brother or did we just make that up in our heads because they dont seem to want us to remember that
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dykedvonte · 4 months ago
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Its really interesting that Jimmy’s chair is the one tilted away from the screen in this shot:
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It’s indicative of how his and Jimmy’s dynamic was. He’s not staring ahead at the screen, he’s not paying attention to what they are doing. Curly is the only one looking forward. Jimmy quite literally couldn’t see the responsibility Curly had or was doing. Jimmy likely slacked off and avoided most of his duties. I mean the one time we know he pilots the Tulpar he steers it wrong and loses the team 4000 credits. Even in the positions they held objectively, Curly was always taking responsibility for Jimmy. Not to mention the “We can fix this” and only one chair at attention. Jimmy never had intentions to fix anything, throughout the game, throughout his entire relationship with Curly. Curly always fixed it? Why would it be any different here?
If he even took the slightest bit of responsibility, he would’ve stayed in the cockpit to see his plan through. In the end Curly did what Jimmy always expected him to do for him and took responsibility. Did what he always did and took responsibility at the wrong time…
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piratebluebeard · 1 year ago
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now guys.... what does this fat ass rock on ed's bloody ass finger have to do with anything....
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starman-john-tracy · 2 days ago
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Sewage and Sunshine [RP]
@squidsinashirt:
“You’re just upset we didn’t bring you an alien back to keep on Five!” Gordon chuckles to himself as he fights with the rusted valve, the hiss of the pipework under pressure beneath him increasing with each turn. John’s voice echoes once more as he tries to contact the surface once more (futile, he wants to comment), before the redhead is apparently talking to himself once more. And Gordon pauses. Glancing downward once more to where John is stood, listening to each word, before returning to his task with a grunt of effort. Blonde brows knitting in a grimace far beyond the effort of his task. The uncertain undertone to John’s voice is so alien that it unsettles even Gordon’s usually bright confidence. Beyond being the unshakable voice of calm aboard Thunderbird Five, the untouchable, cool genius of Professor Tracy, on a far simpler level - John is his big brother. There’s something programmed deep in the layers of his mammal brain that sends a shiver down his spine at the idea of any of his elder brothers being afraid, and John is no different. The implications of that, however, take up too much thinking space that an active mission does not allow for, and so Gordon retreats to his best tactic once more - lighten the mood. Plaster a grin on your face, Gordo, and push through. “That’s just the adrenaline talking, Johnny. It might, when you are literally underneath an illegal plant, waiting to explode. Not always though. Sometimes it’s a little more straightforward, y’know? You feel more in control. I’d say a bit less under pressure, but Four and I are always under pressure, heh.“ It’s the truth; there are some rescues that require a braver face, and others than seem to fall more positively on the throw of the dice. Some with a little finer margins than others, and Gordon knows his brother is well aware of that. Not that the spaceman hadn’t had his own brushes with ‘a little too close’. “Of course, there are always some that- ah, there we go. That’s the valve closed and-“ He doesn’t get the chance to finish as the pipe he was rather precariously perched on shears clean in two, and whatever he had planned to say instead becomes a panicked yelp. The acrid smell of gas hits him with force as the metalwork ruptures, and Gordon finds himself incredibly grateful for his helmet as it takes the brunt of meeting the brick wall behind him. Scraping along in complaint as gravity recalls him along with the pipework, before landing face first next to John. Vanishing beneath the murky surface as the remains of the rusted pipes rain down on them. The water taking advantage of a moment’s stunned delay, before Gordon’s brain catches up with what has just happened, and he surfaces with a flail. The tunnel is still swimming as he stumbles clumsily to his feet, ears ringing, and blinking in the dust and dark around, noting John was indeed correct - the water has risen, sitting comfortably at chest height now against his shorter frame. John. Gordon’s panic switches in an instant, and he’s wiping the plexiglas faceplate of his helmet clear. “Shit, shit- John?! Are you alright?!” The sharp hiss of the now ruptured pipeline above their heads catches his attention, gas venting angrily into the small space, and suddenly his focus is back - they need to move. “John!!”
For a moment that's just a little too long, John's shocked, ragged breathing is all that fills his helmet. Then, like the cogs of his big computer brain have been kicked into gear;
"Gordon!?!" He calls back, and the tunnel is filled with the echoes of the spaceman splashing around as he tries to find which direction is, not only his brother, but upright. John's lost his torch somewhere in the black water and his collarbone sears where a heavy chunk of sheared pipe had struck him, but it seems like nothing when his sibling has just plummeted down out of the darkness above.
"Am- did you- did you ask if I'm ok?" John gasps, from somewhere above and to the side of him. Flailing gloved hands, cold and wet, finally find Gordon's in the darkness, and the spaceman helps drag his brother upright. Something in John's shoulder pulls as he does, but, save for a grit to his teeth, he doesn't acknowledge the weakness in his left arm.
"You just fell like eight feet!?!" He frets, instead, his face pale in the weak glow of his helmet light, "How's your back?" And, ever since the Hydrofoil, that's always what his brothers think of first, "Did you hit your head?" John pats around in the blackness until he finds the smooth, domed top of his brother's helmet. The gloves of his spacesuit feed him back a jumble of data about the scrape across the back of it, but John hates that he can't actually feel the jagged edges of the damage with his fingers. "Do you think you broke anything?"
Before he can ask any more, the comm screen at his wrist bleeps in alarm and promptly vomits a bunch of glowing red warnings into the air between them.
"Wait." John commands - the full authority of Space Monitor in his tone, "The pipe is leaking shale gas from the fracking." John reads over the air quality information he's been given quickly but grimly, but his hands are still on his little brother. "Eighty percent CH4 - that's methane." His frown deepens. So much for turning it off: they've turned the whole thing into a powder keg instead. "Not super toxic in low amounts, but very flammable. We need to go slowly and carefully, understand? Our helmets and oxygen supply will keep us from breathing it in, but the smallest spark from any electronics, from any static, and this whole place is going up."
Unfortunately, the rising water, now creeping up toward Gordon's collarbones, might not give them much choice in how fast they have to move.
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greenerteacups · 1 month ago
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not asking for spoilers but just wanted to let you know I am SO excited to see whether you'll be including any aspect of the golden trio's van life™ treasure hunting in the woods segment of DH in your story. I know you've talked about how silly and irrelevant it is for them to be off and away from all the other characters and action for so much of the last book, so I'm looking forward to seeing the changes you make and what kinds of new experiences they'll have if they remain more tethered to the plot. but c'mon. neverending geocashing group camping trip from hell. it's kind of hilarious.
RV TRIP DEATHLY HALLOWS they will never make me love you RV trip deathly hallows... tho you are right and I fully grant it is the funniest thing that book could have done... it's like. The Two Towers if you're reading Sam and Frodo's trip to Mordor and you don't know what fuck all else is going on while they're doing it. And also none of the stuff with Aragorn or the actual war for the ring is on the page. And there are Hallows there, for some reason.
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moongothic · 1 year ago
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Honestly I think crocodile/dragon and crocodile/Doflamingo are only interesting when treated as failed relationships spinning off into increasingly petty grudges and instigations. Become a warlord to piss off one ex by working with his hated father only for the OTHER ex to ALSO become a warlord to drive you insane. Etc.
I am now going to take his as an opportunity to rant about Dragodile because I unironically think it's an interesting ship if Crocodad Real and I don't think I'm ever going to find a better excuse to rant about it unprompted lmao SO HERE WE GO
But yes like. Dragodile is so fucking interesting to me
A marine and a pirate falling in love with each other is already some starcrossed lovers kinda BS. But then it's like, a FORMER marine and pirate who is WORKING FOR THE GOVERNMENT. That's EXTRA JUICY, it adds layers to the starcrossed lovers shit, and I am not immune to it, it's FACINATING, like what was the dynamic here
But also we don't even know when Dragon left the marines and when he and Crocodile first met, so for all we know it could've been some real enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies shit AND THAT'S SO INTERESTING
(Also the mere concept that Dragon could've been chasing Crocodile around kinda like Smoker tried to chase Luffy, only for Crocodile to become a Shichibukai and Dragon having to give up because they're on the same side now (kinda). Like. That is so fucking funny. And then he leaves the Marines to start a revolution. Or just out of spite dshgjdgs)
Then there's the absolutely hysterical part where Crocodile is the meanest, most intimidating, standoff-ish asshole around. So the idea Dragon was fucking into that is INCREDIBLE. THIS MAN LIKES BEING BULLIED DFSHFKGHFGJHDS (It's possible Young Croc might've been less mean but it's funnier if he wasn't)
And yeah. Somehow. In complete secret. A romance blooms.
And then there's a baby.
And Crocodile transes his gender.
And there's a divorce.
And 17 years later Crocodile has commited dozens of unforgivable warcrimes that are almost exactly the kind of things Dragon wanted to stop the government from doing to begin with.
Mind you, I don't actually think there's coming back from that, this relationship was burned to the ground and the ashes blown away by wind, there is nothing left
But could you imagine if despite the anger and the hurt and the warcrimes they still somehow loved each other
I would just
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#Moon posting#Crocodad#Sir Crocodile#Monkey D Dragon#Dragodile#OP Meta#I keep on mentioning Dragodile Divorce but to be fair we don't even know if they had been married#All we do have is the fact that Crocodile Very Specifically doesn't wear a ring on his ring finger (in the manga)#(First half of Alabasta it's his middle finger but from the second half onwards it's consistently been his ring finger)#And there's that SBS where a person asked if the Shichibukai were gonna remain single etc and if they had any kids#And Oda was like ''hMmM I wOnDeR iF aNy oF tHeM hAvE bEeN mArRiEd... Anyway I imagine their kids would be like this''#And then very very specifically he only did Doflamingo Mihawk and **Crocodile**#So like. If Crocodad Real. The two could've been married briefly (in secret). Probably just engaged in my personal opinion#Also like. Like we all know Iva's Magic HRT is POWERFUL STUFF right#There is something so deeply tragic to me about the just the mental image#Of Crocodile trying to put on his engagement ring post-HRT only to realize it doesn't fit his massive man hand#Like a horrible premonition of how this relationship was going to end#Even if he was the same on the inside he no longer literally fit the mere concept of the woman Dragon had fallen in love with#Can you imagine the series of emotions Crocodile would've gone through realizing that#Or who knows maybe he realized it all much earlier-- when and however the fuck he decided to get HRT from Iva-chan#There is much to be said about One Piece's running theme of loneliness and the loneliness queer people experience#God Oda please I need this man's backstory#I need to know what the fuck happened#I NEED TO KNOW HOW THE DIVORCE HAPPENED#NGL there's a part of me that almost hopes Dragon was Objectively Horrible (in a heated moment that he really regrets)#Just so Crocodile could be at least a little justified in being at resentful towards Dragon#I dunno it would not sit too well with me if the Cishet Man Dragon was 100% In The Right And Never Did Anything Wrong#And then it's the transgender man who does all the morally questionable horrible shit because he's an evil queer#(There's more than plenty of positive queer rep in OP to balance out one (1) evil trans character don't get me wrong)#(But it would be sad if Crocodile was An Evil Queer especially because he's the one who has transitioned)
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bmpmp3 · 2 months ago
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im curious to see how we'll see how we feel about takehiro and the others' new designs when they're fully revealed but it did get me thinking about how i would design his outfit. unfortunately i realized very quickly that i would just put him in my own fashion style: department-store-clearance-core
#art#traditional art#watercolour#fanart#virvox project#kurono takehiro#vocal synth#voicevox#no id rn because i havent figured out how to translate all this to alt text yet... gimme a bit to think on it orz#BUT yeah like. well im sure their new designs will be fine. but one thing that did stand out to me. is that i do not like muscle tees LOL#and i guess it snowballed. i like fitted tank tops. and loose 90s moe tank tops. but not muscle tanks. turtlenecks are fine.#but you know maybe my walmart clearance fashion sense works for him. i always liked that he kind of dresses like some fucking guy#like his blazer is pretty slick but the rest of him is just a guy in jeans and a t shirt. and i love that#like akashi dresses like my grandpa with better colour sense. kotarou dresses like a pokemon trainer? sourin has his like#traditional modern stylish thing going on. and the mysterious fur strip glued on the back <3 and aoyama dresses lowkey kinda hypebeast#streetwear esque. but takehiro? thats literally just some dude <3 <3 <3 i do worry his new design will make him tooo trendy looking#BUT im intrigued. i think they said they're hoping to do multiple designs by a bunch of people? which i hope they can#the original designs had a very. moe? appeal. a distinct sort of cuteness and squishiness without being toothrottingly so#that might be missing from some newer designs but if we have a whole variety we can have like#a zola project situation at least. like we have the stylistic amano art all the way to the v6 glossy designs#a whole variety would be nice. but i am worried about ryuuseis hair the most lowkey. what are we gonna do without his huge bizarre fauxhawk#BUT maybe i should throw my hat in the ring.... really push myself to make more fan designs and outfits for all these characters i like#maybe i'll be able to draw something thats not just zhers clearance clothes. maybe i'll step up to gap clearance clothes. even winners??
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tlgtw · 8 months ago
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Man that DLC's final boss has got me feeling kinda fucked. I'm kinda depressed about it now that I'm done. Everything else is, was, so good. But I do not like that plot development. I honestly think it is bad. Why did they choose not to foreshadow this in literally any way? Why did Miquella attempt to resurrect Godwyn at all in the first place, then? Practice? Was this really what was originally planned? There's no actual evidence to the contrary so you gotta assume it must've been.
So yeowch...
#sote spoilers#elden ring#tlgtw ooc#literally actually nothing from the base game is resolved. Except where the Land of the Numen were.#That in itself is fine tho--actually. It's clearly a statement: Marika's hair talisman from Shaman Village confirms this for me.#Some things are lost to history or just plain out of reach. And there's nothing anyone can do about it.#We'll never ACTUALLY know who the Gloam-Eyed Queen was--just that all signs pointed to Miquella.#But there's no way to confirm it: Nobody's alive to tell the tale.#So like. THAT part. The extancy of all those unanswered questions. I actually am not gonna lie I kinda really like that. Despite everything#But I think Radahn Consort of Miquella is fucking terrible. “Miquella saw how kind Radahn was” I'm sorry HOW kind was Radahn?#The fucking infinite warmonger who literally explicitly made himself a copy of Godfrey?#There are literally ZERO examples of Radahn being kind in any way. Outside of having one (1) pet horse.#It should've been Godwyn. I'm not even kidding. Godwyn at least is someone who has explicitly succeeded in diplomacy.#Since he befriended his mortal enemy Fortissax and spared the Ancient Dragons by creating the Dragon Cult.#THAT'S something you could point to as an example of kindness. Especially since that's Godfrey's direct heir.#WHAT the FUCK does RADAHN do?????#He doesn't do anything!!! He just kills people!!#We never even get to see what weapon Godwyn used to use!#I don't like it. I think it is not very good.#Rest of the DLC is astounding but how can it all lead up to that? Ah...#Nothing like I had imaged: There's a lot I have to figure out now.
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trashcanwithsprinkles · 11 months ago
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What’s your favorite bit of lore? Or favorite holiday/festival in genshin they’re pretty neat
i'm absolutely biased towards lantern rite tbh
as for bit of lore, i'm not really sure. i feel like 'bit of lore' is really weird to define, bc ultimately most lore is all connected into bigger pictures. obviously i'm partial towards liyue lore in general, but as for a specific little bit...
probably still the possibility that zhongli is partial to archery.
#thank you <3 <3#i know his passive talent is for crafting spears but like#the only reason why that talent is for spears specifically is bc he is a polearm user. nowhere in the talent itself nor other related media#do we get a mention of zhongli being particularly good at crafting polearms over other weapon types#we know he made the pwjs and the jade cutter. he didn't make jadefall but he did wield it. he also made summit shaper#we can assume he made vortex vanquisher n the unforged but there's no real confirmation on either. we do know he didn't make memory of dust#assuming he did make those last two that's still an equal number of polearms and swords he made. more swords if you wanna count the unforge#ofc he could've made countless op polearms off-camera. but we're never told that#dainsleif's factoid abt the talent is more about zhongli knowing his rocks than zhongli being a good polearm maker in specific#and the skill's name in chinese is more about astrology and divination than anything else. again more on zhongli knows his rocks#so like- we don't know that he had a mastery over crafting polearms in specific#and we know he wielded catalysts and polearms and likely swords as well#and still#the only real imagery on his design on what weapon he uses#is a fucking archery ring. nowhere is it mentioned that zhongli uses bows (that we know of)#yet he wears that thing on the daily. like he still uses it. like he needs to literally keep it on hand. why#why would he do that if he apparently does not historically use bows.#only thing i can think of is that he still practices archery. over any other weapon type. which is a hilarious thought tbh#but more crack theory than anything
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Something I really adore about Minthara is she's the only companion--and honestly the only major character really--who truly brings the horror and tragedy of what is being done to the True Souls to the forefront, and reveals just what an awful fate you and the companions avoided by mere chance. Because at that point you're mostly thinking about turning into an illithid and true destruction of the self, not how you would've been a True Soul--but still you--slaughtering your way across the countryside like every other infected.
Because it doesn't matter how good or noble or strong-willed you are. Every companion, from Astarion to Wyll, would've been willing to commit atrocities in the Absolute's name were it not for the Prism.
The way she describes the Absolute is so insidious. How she had no choice, or more accurately her mind had been warped to the point that whatever the Absolute wanted was the best choice she could ever make. Minthara is Minthara, she expresses absolutely no shame for some truly horrid things and proudly claims evil actions taken in the name of survival or faith as her own, and yet what she did under the Absolute's control is what she outright rejects as being in any way her fault. The way Orin tormented her and then it was remembered as something revelatory, divine, rather than a moment of fear and violation, is so fucked up. Minthara is such a genuinely proud woman, so seeing her so affected and her declaration that she'd rather die than have her mind and agency stolen again, is very disturbing.
There are a few moments where the True Souls get a bit of narrative sympathy and humanity. Those siblings outside of the Grove for example. But Minthara is the one who truly brings home how every True Soul is a person who has been taken and violated and exploited with no real say or ability to resist. They are victims and their Chosen-ness is almost a mocking parody of the relationship between the gods (Bhaal, Myrkul, Bane, Shar, Mystra, Vlaakith) and their Chosen (Durge and Orin, Ketheric, Gortash, Shadowheart, Gale, Lae'zel) where the entire farce and delusion of it is laid out for us to see. At the very least the vampire spawn have some sort of will outside of their master, the True Souls don't even get that. And you still have to kill them.
Very fitting for the tragedy-horror theme of the 2nd Act though.
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phillestatos · 1 year ago
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we're never gonna get a dnp play xiv video because their characters are probably married in game and they dont want anyone to know. like guys please show me your house. how was the 'getting a house in xiv' process. you guys want to play dawntrail on your channel so bad. you want to SO BAD. you have FRAMED PICTURES of your miqotes and you will NOT play it?? clear p12s for us dan and phil or are you scared we'll see you're MARRIED . SHOW ME THE CATBOY WEDDING
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